


Kiss Me

by NeneDiallo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeneDiallo/pseuds/NeneDiallo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parrish nodded his head, disappointment running through his features. As he closed the door Lydia released a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.<br/>It was so close.<br/>Lydia opened her laptop, rereading the second part of the dead pool.<br/>JOY WALDROP 250<br/>CHERYL CALIX 250<br/>JORDAN PARRISH 5<br/>It wasn’t a phantasm she had hoped for. Deputy was on the list.<br/>She did not expect this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bait

**Author's Note:**

> After suffering from all the Marrish feels I have decided to write my first multi-chapter fic bout the pairing we all love so much. The storry starts during I.E.D and is kind of my Marrish-centered version of season 4 of Teen Wolf.  
> I'll try to update ASAP but if there's one thing I can't always control, it's my afflatus :).  
> Hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying the writing process.

-You need a ride home?  
Lydia glanced at Malia who was calling Stiles to pass the news to the rest of the pack.   
-No, we’re fine- she replied trying to sound as natural as it was possible in the current situation.   
Parrish nodded his head, disappointment running through his features. As he closed the door Lydia released a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.   
It was so close.   
Lydia opened her laptop, rereading the second part of the dead pool.   
JOY WALDROP 250  
CHERYL CALIX 250  
JORDAN PARRISH 5  
It wasn’t a phantasm she had hoped for. Deputy was on the list.   
She did not expect this.   
When Lydia Martin found out about the existence of werewolves, werewolves hunters, banshees and kanimas she had also decided that expecting the unexpected was the only way to say alive. However, like with most things, it was easier said than done. Even though she tried to brace herself for each and every possible and impossible events, nothing could have prepared her for seeing Stiles being possessed by an evil Japanese spirit (also known as Nogitsune), feeling Allison and Aiden dying from the hands of the Nogitsune’s underlings (also known as the Oni).   
Discovering Parrish was a supernatural, even if it wasn’t half as painful and traumatizing, belonged to the same category.   
No matter how unexpected it was, that was the truth. And Deputy couldn’t be some bunny-like creature who’s biggest power were good looks.   
Magical bunnies weren’t worth 5 million dollars.   
If Kira’s mom’s head was also worth 5 million dollars, and she was a force to be reckoned with, Parrish had to be something big.   
“Just not a homicidal lizard”, Lydia begged in her mind as she took the laptop and headed towards Malia, who was giving her nosey signs which probably meant “Come on, we have to go” in werecoyotes’ language.   
As the two girls were leaving the station Lydia glanced in Parrish’s desk direction. He raised his head, like he was waiting for her to do this. His pale green eyes locked with the strawberry blonde’s darker ones.   
Lydia forced herself to put a smile on her face, knowing it would be a weak one. The deputy answered with the same gesture, his smile kind and supportive,   
“Please, don’t be a homicidal lizard”, Lydia prayed as she pushed the door, “Please, please, please”  
***  
-Now, I gotta admit I didn’t see that one coming- Peter was the first one to speak after Lydia, with the assistance of quite many Malia’s interludes, told the story of the code-breaking- Though he has the good looks of a supernatural.   
Lydia couldn’t stop from wincing, at the former alpha’s words. Of course he was making a joke out of it. Of freaking course.   
They weren’t at Derek’s loft because of an emergency crisis. Absolutely not. They were here to entertain Peter Hale.   
-The other asshole of a deputy yes, but the nice young one? I haven’t felt anything when I was near him- Derek’s brows furrowed , giving him the typical broody Hale look.   
-May have something to do with the fact you were more of a puppy than a wolf then- Malia shrugged nonchalantly, like she didn’t know saying things like to her in so facto cousin was never a good option.   
Luckily for her, Scott started speaking, stopping the possible outburst.   
\- I would’ve smelled something- Scott looked Derek in the eyes, with one look reminding him of the fact Malia had spent most of her life running as a coyote in a forest.   
-My dad’s been working with him and he’s another monster?- Stiles exclaimed his arms flying around , making Lydia sure he was suffering from late reaction syndrome. She expected him to be the first one to react. Then again, she expected him to do a lot of things lately. And he didn’t exactly live up to the expectations- Sorry- he added realizing how inappropriate using the word “monsters” was in a room full of…, well monsters. -We have to find of who or rather what that ass is.   
-Is chasing another supernatural our biggest priority now? May I remind you someone is trying to kill us all- Peter asked, again channeling or the attention in his room on his person.  
-Technically, you’re not on the list- Lydia glared at him, wondering why they kept him around. If it depended on her, he’d be given to the assassins all wrapped up with a ribbon plastered on his mouth.   
-Yet sweetheart, yet- Peter answered forcing Lydia’s eyes to go for another 360 degrees journey.   
-It wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for the fact he had been hiding which means he could be working with the benefactor- Scott stated as a matter of factly.  
-Or be the benefactor- Malia added, clearly this day being a brilliant one for her brain.   
Stiles send his girlfriend, or whatever Malia actually was for Stiles, a proud smile which did not escape Lydia’s attention. This meeting was making her nauseous.   
-She’s right, he could easily be the benefactor. He has access to all needed information and he’s inconspicuous- Derek supporting the theory, which despite its probability, seemed impossible to Lydia. It was one thing, being a homicidal monster but being a homicidal monster and the brain behind a supernatural slaughter? Impossible.   
The appearance of that word convincing Lydia that maybe Parrish could be the benefactor. Expect the unexpected it was.   
-How do we get the truth out of that lying piece of crap?  
-We could kidnap him and force the confession out of him- Scott answered Malia’s question with an idea most people knew he’d come up with at some point.   
-No dude, no more kidnapping- Stiles patted the alpha’s back, shaking his head, scared of how another kidnapping party would go- We need to outfox him. Pun not intended- he said to Kira who still hadn’t spoken. To be honest, Lydia had forgotten the girl was even there.   
-Someone has to finagle him, maybe you’re dad Stiles- Derek’s idea making wince almost as much as Stiles did.   
However the next idea made her even more terrified.   
-Or Lydia- Malia offered making everyone including Lydia stare at her with eyes wide open. Some at the fact she dared to say that, some at the fact she thought the only of the supernaturals in the pack who couldn’t heal was the right person to finagle the deputy. Lydia belonged to both of these groups.   
-His scent changes when he’s around you- the werecoyote continued this time looking at Lydia, as if changing scents were a good excuse-That means he likes her, right?- she snapped her head towards Stiles and Scott looking for confirmation.   
-It does- Stiles mumbled, his chestnut eyes locked on Lydia, his face coloring with emotions she couldn’t quite name.   
-Splendid- Peter exclaimed clapping his hands so loudly the redhead banshee felt something twisting in her head- Means we have a plan.   
-No, we don’t- Scott growled getting ahead of Stiles.   
-Can someone explain again what is happening- Kira asked having trouble with catching up due to her slightly late arrival. All she really got was that Lydia unlocked the second part of the list – And who is this Perrish guy?  
-Parrish- Lydia corrected automatically, her mind still analyzing Malia’s words.  
Parrish liked her. Deputy Parrish, the new bad in town had a soft spot on her. If that wasn’t a déjà vu, she didn’t know what was.   
-One of the deputies, he questioned us after Allison…- Stiles froze up still not being able to pronounce the words “died” or “was murdered”.   
-Oh- Kira whispered quietly cursing her brain’s inability to think.   
-Coming back to Parrish…- Derek ended the full of pain silence that had fallen over them at the mention of the huntress’ death- If what Malia says is true…  
-It is- Malia interrupted.   
-Lydia’s the best option we have- he finished, struggling not to answer Stiles’ crude girlfriend.   
-Plus you do have experience in dealing with monsters pining over you. What was that Kanima’s name. Jackson?  
-Shut up Peter- this time Stiles’ growl filled the air in the loft. The former alpha snorted but remained quiet.   
In the meantime Lydia was trying to think all the options through. There weren’t many of them. She either agreed to be the bait or someone would get hurt. It was a painfully familiar choice. The last time she chose wrong. She couldn’t make the same mistake again. She simply couldn’t.   
-Lydia?- Scott suddenly appeared in front of Lydia, looking at her, worry written all over his face- What do you think?  
-It’s the best option we have- she repeated Derek’s words as she raised her head looking the alpha in the eyes- It’s the only option we have- her voice more defined this time.   
Scott looked at for another moment, searching for some hints of lies.   
-Okay- he said when he made sure it was a decision Lydia was alright with. Well, as alright as one could with this kind of plan.  
Lydia nodded her head, avoiding Stiles’ eyes stare. She wasn’t the one to be angrily looked at. He could thank his girlfriend for that.   
-So, it’s official. You’re the bait- Peter said a bit too joyfully for everyone’s liking making Lydia regret even more opening that list.   
Maybe he was right. Maybe she was destined to do that.   
***  
-So Parrish’s supernatural? What is he like a werewolf, banshee a kanima?- the concern in Sheriff’s voice matched the one in Lydia’s mind.   
-We don’t know really know yet- Stiles shrugged in an awkward manner.  
-But you know he’s something- the man kept repeating his son’s words.  
Lydia’s thoughts flew back to the time when she was the unclassified “something”. They used almost the same plan on her. Needless to say, it wasn’t the pack who figured out the banshee thing. It was the Darach, when she tried to strangle her.   
Hopefully there wouldn’t be much strangling involved this time.   
-Are you sure?- Stiles’ dad asked hoping the answer would somehow changed.   
There were few people in this town who could be trusted. That small circle falling apart? He didn’t know if he was ready for that.   
-He’s on the list, dad. He has to be something.   
Sheriff buried his face in his hands as Stiles’ answer reached his ears.   
Lydia could swear she hear a muttered “fuck” leaving Sherriff’s mouth. She knew how much Stiles’ dad liked the deputy . Lydia would risk saying Parrish was more of a younger brother to him than subordinate. She still remembered his worried face after the fight with the Oni at the station. When you fought evil like this together, deepening all relations was inevitable. She knew something about that.   
But Lydia was pretty sure everyone under any circumstances would grow some affection towards Parrish. It might’ve something to do with the fact he was the epitome of kindness wrapped in an extremely good looking package.   
Not really a monster material.   
Lydia glanced at Stiles. Worry spread all over his face outnumbering even the moles covering his skin. If Parrish was lethal the person who was in biggest danger was the Sherriff.   
She gave the brown-eyed boy a supportive smile, for a second forgetting about the feelings that had accompanied her for the last two months.   
The strawberry blonde couldn’t express how glad she was, her mom’s biggest issues were their financial problems and not the fact her daughter and her friends were a worthy target for professional assassins. Miss Martin wasn’t a person who could deal with the supernatural world. In fact nobody was.   
-Okay so Parrish is… something- the Sheriff first reaction wore off, leaving the typical skepticism reserved for supernatural events in its place- And Lydia is supposed to hang around him to discover what monster he is?- his brows furrowing, clearly not liking the idea of using the strawberry blonde as a bait.   
She might have been a banshee but she still was just a seventeen year old girl. He remembered what happened to Allison. He didn’t want to write down another report about one of the kids dying.   
-We’re as enthusiastic as you are- Stiles ran a hand through his hair, avoiding Lydia’s eyes.   
-You’re okay with this?- the Sheriff asked Lydia making something inside of her swell.   
Lately even the smallest amount of affection put her in that state. The Sheriff was more of a father to her than her own dad. He accepted the craziness in her, something her father couldn’t bear to do.   
Not that Lydia blamed him. She, herself, hadn’t exactly managed to entirely wrap her mind around the idea she was a banshee.   
-It’s the best option we have, the only option we have- she repeated the words previously directed at Scott, already knowing it sounded convincing.   
Sheriff’s eyes lingered on her for about fifteen seconds then moved to his son.   
He knew it was a lost cause. The Kids have already decided.   
-Fine. What do I do?  
-Keep an eye on Parrish and help us make sure Lydia doesn’t…- Stiles’ s voice trailed off, his fear of the “d” word showing again.   
-Make sure I don’t end up being eaten or clawed or dead- Lydia finished, her voice cold. The sudden rush of anger washing through her body helped her keep her composure.   
-I’ll do my best- he nodded in the voice usually reserved for his job.   
He had a task and he was gonna make sure he fulfilled it.   
-Time to start then- Stiles ran nervously a hand through his hair.   
Like he had something to worry about. He wasn’t the bait. She was.   
And that gave Lydia the right to freak out the second she heard Stiles’ words. Speculating about the plan was one thing, executing another.   
With a deep inhale she stood up and flattened her pleated skirt.   
First step seemed easy. All she had to do was talk Parrish into taking her to Meredith the next day. The pack , without being obvious about it, thought maybe the other banshee could figure out deputy’s breed.   
Easy breezy.  
Really.   
Lydia was about to leave Sheriff’s office when the man spoke up.   
-Take this with you- ha handed Lydia a black stun gun- Make sure you always have it with you kiddo.   
She took the taser feeling a small smile creeping up on her face. She nodded, sent Stiles one more look before she caught the door handle and pulled it.   
The banshee didn’t even have to look around, she spotted Parrish immediately. Apparently so did he.   
The minutes her green eyes landed on the deputy, his head flew up.   
With the corner of her eye she saw Stiles heading towards the exit.   
It was time to play.   
Lydia ‘s face expression changed, the anxiety replaced with confidence with a suitable level of irony.   
She bounced up to Parrish, not letting her imagination get carried away. Imagining what he was, was not going to help.   
-Everything’s alright?- Jordan asked standing up when the strawberry blonde reached his desk.   
Seeing someone like Lydia’s on the station twice a day was hardly ever a good sign.   
-Do I look like something’s wrong?- Lydia titled her head to the side arching her eyebrows.   
-No, but you have a reputation- Parrish’s voice changing from cautious to challenging.   
Lydia snorted remembering to let her eyes go up and down Deputy’s body. It wasn’t the hardest part of the plan, she had to admit.   
-Stiles lost his home keys and he needed to take his dad’s- the banshee rolled her eyes, quite impressed at how easy lying was to her. Practice made indeed perfect- I accompanied him because I also had something to do here.   
-At the station?- Jordan raised his eyebrows- and what was it that you had to do?  
-Technically what is it that I had to- Lydia said matter of factly- I wanted to thank you.   
-Thank me?- the deputy was clearly surprised. So was Lydia.   
That the words she was saying were not a total lie.   
-For what you did with Meredith. If it wasn’t for you… -Lydia stopped realizing telling him about the list wasn’t the best of all ideas.   
Luckily Parrish treated the silence as a sign of her going speechless.   
-It’s nothing really- he shrugged feeling suddenly a bit embarrassed- It’s what we do. Well most of us- Parrish added discreetly pointing out at his fellow deputy who’s newest nickname was “Deputy Asshole”.   
Lydia looked at Jordan searching for some signs of evil in him. Whatever he was, he was good at hiding it.   
She really needed to get to the actual point  
-I also may have a little request- she started rather innocently.   
Parrish lips twitched in the slightest smirk but he remained silent.   
-I still need Meredith’s help and I might also owe her an apology- Lydia didn’t need to fake the embarrassment assisting her words. She really took it too far with the poor girl- Stiles’ dad can’t go with us so I thought maybe you could.   
Jordan looked at her for couple seconds before nodding his head.   
-I’ll go with you- he smiled lightly at girl in front of him, glad he could somehow help Lydia. The malaise feeling he got when she was breaking down in front of them wasn’t something he enjoyed. He might’ve not been a psychic like the strawberry blonde but he could be helpful.   
-Okay. Eichen House at 12?- Lydia asked surprised it was that easy to convince him. But was she really, genuinely surprised? No, she probably wasn’t.  
-I’ll meet you there.   
Lydia send him a smile she considered as a grateful one before turning away and leaving.   
“It wasn’t that hard”, she thought to herself.   
But this was just the beginning.


	2. Watched You Fall Into His Arms Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan moved closer to Lydia, putting his hands on her arms just before she lost her balance again. He felt her body tensing under his palms. His fingers drawing soothing circles on her cold skin trying to ease the clear pain she was still in.  
> After couple seconds the tension left her body making a lot free place for cold to take. Parrish, with one hand still holding the banshee, took off his jacket. As he put it on her arms Lydia turned her head, the movement surprisingly quick, locking her eyes with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter 2! For the sake of the chapter let’s pretend the Eichen House worker we’ve seen in 4x06 has a name different than Dick and that name is Randall. As Always there are hints of romantic Stydia, probably stronger than in the first one but they are necessary. Enjoy!

At point 11.50 Lydia parked her car outside Eichen House. To her surprise the police car was nowhere to be seen. Parrish seemed to be a person who was overly punctual. Then again he also looked like a non-monster creature.  
However there was one car which caught the banshee’s attention. A blue jeep parked on the other side of the road. The blue jeep to be exact.  
Right as if on cue the car doors opened, clumsy Stiles falling out of the scrap. It was a miracle he didn’t fall flat on his ass.  
What was he even doing here? She swore, if he got all protective now Lydia would lose it. Completely.  
-Hi- the boy waved at her as he crossed the street, again by some miracle, avoiding getting hit by one of the passing cars.  
-Stiles?- her eyebrows shooting to the sky.  
-Huh?- he asked obliviously making Lydia’s hands drop.  
-What are you doing here? And don’t tell me you were just driving around when you suddenly saw me- she raised her finger just in time to stop Stiles from vomiting some absurd excuse.  
Stiles closed his slightly agape mouth so quickly it almost broke his teeth. His chestnut eyes narrowed sending the redhead who’s hair wasn’t exactly red glares.  
Lydia rolled her eyes at the childish behavior, feeling her stomach knotting at how painfully familiar the situation was. There was only one difference. Couple months ago she’d pretend to be furious and then let out an uncontrollable chuckle. Now she wasn’t pretending.  
-So you ready?- the boy covered with gazillion moles ran a hand through his hair making it even messier.  
-You still haven’t answered my question Stiles. What are you doing here?- Lydia questioned demandingly. She was too tired to play any games.  
-Keeping you company?- he offered a hoping smile wide on his face. Lydia’s eyes stayed fixed on him. She wanted a real answer. Stiles knew she wouldn’t give up. She never did - I couldn’t let you go alone- he revealed with a loud exhale.  
-Didn’t stop you before- the words flew out of Lydia’s mouth instead of the “Me being alone with him is the damn point” she planned on saying.  
Silence fell over them, as shock grew in Stiles’ eyes. He didn’t expect her to say something so open. Neither did Lydia because she wasn’t supposed to say that.  
She wasn’t supposed to say that now.  
She wasn’t supposed to say it ever.  
Stiles opened his mouth hoping some words, helpful words would come out of it but before his brain could even think about them a car stopped next to them. A police car.  
Lydia let out a breath she was holding ever since the sentence directed at Stiles escaped her mouth. At this point she preferred dealing with another supernatural than talking about her feelings.  
Actually she’d always emotionless laying a trap for some monster.  
The teenagers turned as one their heads to the right waiting for Parrish to get outside of the car and attenuate the tension.  
Luckily he did what they had expected him to not more than five seconds later.  
He approached them, his eyes on Lydia even though from time to time they did wander to the Stilinski boy. He wasn’t expecting Stiles there but it seemed that he and Lydia were inseparable for the last couple of days.  
-Hi Lydia and Stiles- the banshee didn’t miss the bits of kicker surrounding her friend’s name.  
Parrish was supposed to believe she trusted him enough to be alone with him. Someone bodyguardying her wasn’t the epitome of trust. She needed to get this straight before Stiles would mess up more than he already did.  
-I figured Meredith would be more eager to cooperate if she had someone she knew- Lydia explained vaguely hoping Stiles would follow along.  
Before he could do that, Parrish started the typical cop digging. Or benefactor digging for that matter.  
-You know Meredith?- deputy’s eyebrows furrowing, his brain working full mode.  
“Don’t bullshit the bullshitter” a quote from a movie which title Lydia couldn’t recall appeared in her mind. They had to think like Parrish was 5 steps ahead of them. It didn’t require a particularly vivid imagination. He probably was.  
-Yeah, we met while I was in Eichen. It wasn’t a long time but we got quite close- the brown-haired boy chaotic explanation wasn’t exactly what Lydia had on mind but it worked. And she definitely did not think about the fact this story was true, expect one of the main characters was different. , a mentally ill girl replaced by a werecoyote.  
Jordan’s doubts disappeared at the mention of Stiles’ stay at the asylum. He remember how the Sheriff looked couple months ago. He imagined it wasn’t their dream topic to bring up.  
-I’m sorry I forgot about it- Parrish’s apologies soothed a little Lydia’s wrecked nerves. At least he didn’t consider the bodyguarding as bodyguarding.  
-It’s okay, I’m better now. Kinda- when Stiles started scratching his neck nervously and Parrish face garnished an awkward look Lydia knew they had to get inside. She wouldn’t last any longer in that company.  
Her companions shared the feeling so when she directed that they went in both, the deputy and the younger man, eagerly agreed.  
As they were walking towards the room Meredith was kept in, Lydia felt her body tensing up with every single step she took. She knew Stiles felt the same.  
The last time he’d been there the Nogitsune almost killed Malia, the last time she was here? She was a guest in Stiles’ possessed mind. Not pleasant memories.  
It got even less pleasant when that dick of a murse (also known as Randall) ushered the trio to Meredith’s solitary. All Lydia needed was one look at the cell-similar room for all her night fears to come back, hitting her with double force. Being locked up in Eichen was a recurring theme in Lydia’s dreams. She wasn’t even entirely sure these were dreams and not visions of the future.  
There were many days when straitjacketing her seemed like the only reasonable solution.  
Funny enough, couple moments after the thought crossed Lydia’s mind it got incredibly close to her being straitjacketed.  
It started when she sat on a chair opposite Meredith’s bed, Stiles standing on her left, Parrish on her right. She heard ticking in her ears. It wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t its volume that made Lydia cringe. It was its constancy. Her questions, the lack of Meredith’s answers, Parrish’s soothing words directed at the other banshee, Stiles’ loud breathing. Everything with the accompaniment of the noise.  
Noise quickly joined by voices.  
She tried to focus, first on Meredith’s eyes, than on the wall, the on Stiles’ plaid. Nothing was working. And the noise got louder. So much louder.  
Feeling desperate she turned her head to Stiles, green eyes begging for help.  
The moment when Stiles saw Lydia he felt all the air leaving his body.  
-Parrish we have to get her out of here- Stiles’ voice echoed in Lydia’s head.  
Deputy’s attention went from Meredith, to Stiles, to Stiles’ words and finally to the strawberry blonde girl who looked like life was being drained out of her.  
There was something in her eyes. Something that reminded him of the day they met at the Walcott’s house. Like only her body was present, her soul visiting very dark places..  
-Lydia what is happening?- Jordan asked approaching her slowly. He didn’t think she heard him- Lydia?  
The banshee heard the sound of her name breaking through the chanting voices in her head. Her vision was blurry but she needed to stand up. She needed to get out of here before they’d close her up.  
Parrish knew she was going to fall down the moment she stood up. Stiles reached her first, sliding down with Lydia safe in his arms.  
That’s when she started screaming.  
The scream was so full pain, Jordan felt something breaking inside of him. Stiles pulled her closer, whispering soothing words but Lydia was oblivious to them.  
It was when he noticed tears streaming down her face he realized he had to do something. But he was sure it was caused by Lydia’s psychic abilities. Therefore she needed another psychic.  
-Meredith- Parrish restrained voice trying to reach the asylum’s patient. The girl looked at him immediately- Can you help her?  
She didn’t answer. Lydia kept screaming. That jerk of a murse was trying to get the door open, the chair deputy had placed there stopping him.  
-Meredith- he repeated, this time his voice stronger, more determined- Can you help Lydia?  
She looked at him for a second before she nodded her head. Meredith stood up from her bed and walked towards Lydia. Stiles wanting to stop the girl, Parrish shaking his head.  
She said she knew how to help. And Jordan believed her.  
Meredith reached out her shaking head and placed it in on Lydia’s forehead. She shut her eyes, opening her mouth.  
She screamed.  
And as she screamed Lydia quieted.  
The cascade of strawberry blonde hair fell limply on Stiles’ chest making both men notice something dark streaming down from her ear.  
Blood.  
Jordan watched Stiles cupping Lydia’s face forcing her glazed eyes to focus, not being able to move.  
What the hell had happened here?  
Parrish looked at Meredith searching answers but the girl was lost in her world. Back on the bed, lying in fetal position shaking her head frantically. she knew as much as he did.  
-Stiles- Lydia’s weak whisper brought Parrish back from his mental journey. He looked down on the entangled two on the floor.  
-I’m here, it’s okay- Stiles’ voice calm and soothing, only his eyes giving away his fear as he stroked Lydia’s face, his movements gentle but full of reserve.  
So this wasn’t usual.  
Good to know.  
The knocking on the door got heavier. They had to leave. Immediately  
-Stiles- Jordan looked at Sheriff’s son, the boy holding Lydia close to him, caressing her head- We have to get out of here.  
Stiles nodded, whispering something to Lydia. The girl looked him in the eyes, silence understanding passing between the two.  
The younger men stood up slowly pulling the banshee with him. His arms strong around her helping her stand up.  
Parrish’s hand raised at its own will wanting to cover the blood stain on the girl’s fair cheek. His fingers caught the red strand of hair carefully moving it so that Lydia’s ears were covered. Only after, he realized what he did, his eyes flying immediately to Lydia’s.  
The girl didn’t react, barely noticing anything different that Stiles’ arms clasped around her trembling torso. He was pretty sure the younger Stilinski did, though.  
Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed at deputy’s move but he didn’t react. No wasn’t the time to tell that supernatural bastard to back the hell off..  
It was time to get out of that bloody institution.  
Parrish told Stiles to step to the side before he removed the chair. Just as he predicted the man who had let them in only after some blackmailing in disguise, falling into the room, his body loudly hitting the floor.  
-What the hell were you doing here deputy?- the man snapping at Parrish as he stood up.  
-What we were supposed to do. Interrogating- confidence sounding in Jordan’s words making his explanation hard to contest.  
But Randall of course did.  
-Listen deputy- the asylum worker basically spat out as he looked around the room, his eyes lingering on the strawberry blonde standing next to Stiles- You better stop fooling around because it may cost you this patch.  
Jordan knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He was a dick, not an idiot.  
Luckily an impulsive idiot.  
-Is that a threat?- the deputy took a step forward, his eyes fixed on Randall- I suggest you think your answer through. Threatening a police officer is a crime, just like driving after a glass of wine.  
To Jordan’s surprise it worked. The dickhead’s was still glaring at him as a fake smiled appeared on his face. He really should appreciate the power of intimidating more often.  
-I wasn’t threatening you deputy. I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding-  
-Surely is. Let’s hope it does not happen again-Parrish replied sternly, the threatening note still hanging somewhere in the air- Thank you Meredith, you were very helpful- even though he had no clue what happened between the girl on the bed and Lydia, he was one hundred percent, well maybe ninety-nine percent positive she was the one who helped the strawberry blonde. That couldn’t have gone completely unnoticed.  
-Let’s go- he said to Stiles and Lydia, knowing only one of them really heard him.  
Stiles clutched Lydia’s hand helping her pass Randall, so engrossed in supporting her he forgot about sending the idiot a triumphant look. There’d be many occasions to do it again.  
As they walked down the hospital’s corridors Parrish tried to erase the image of screaming Lydia from his head. There was so much pain beating from her his own body cringed at the memory of it. Jordan always believed everyone had their limits and once something or someone crossed them? It was the beginning of your downfall.  
He wasn’t sure how that theory applied to Lydia Martin. This girl’s limits were definitely crossed. Was it her downfall? It was a dark scenario, too dark for Parrish’s liking.  
-Lydia, you’re okay standing on your own? I need to clean up the mess in the car- Stiles asked Lydia when they approached his blue jeep.  
Lydia nodded her head, the movement weak. Stiles let go of Lydia’s hand watching her carefully. The minute the strawberry blonde was left on her, her skin got paler, eyes blank.  
Jordan moved closer to Lydia, putting his hands on her arms just before she lost her balance again. He felt her body tensing under his palms. His fingers drawing soothing circles on her cold skin trying to ease the clear pain she was still in.  
After couple seconds the tension left her body making a lot free place for cold to take. Parrish, with one hand still holding the banshee, took off his jacket. As he put it on her arms Lydia turned her head, the movement surprisingly quick locking her eyes with his.  
He expected to see awkwardness, gratitude maybe but what he saw was fear hiding behind her fully dilated pupils. He hadn’t seen her that terrified even when they discovered an underground pantry for dead bodies.  
Jordan squeezed her arms through his jacket not knowing what else he could do. The redhead in his arms took a deep breath not taking her eyes off him.  
-Okay, all’s ready- Stiles said as he placed with mix of his and Malia’s clothes in the back of his car.  
Parrish raised his eyebrows in a silent question. When Lydia nodded deputy’s hands fell down, no longer embracing her.  
She started taking off the jacket he had given her but Jordan’s hands unwittingly caught Lydia’s small ones stopping her from doing that.  
-You’ll give it back some other time- Lydia mouthed the quietest okay stepping away from the deputy- You want me to send someone to take care of your car?- Jordan asked, his eyes following Lydia, making sure she got to the car without fainting.  
-I’ll go get it later- Stiles answered as he helped the strawberry blonde and closed the door from her side. He eschewed the jeep, opened the door but didn’t get in. There was still one thing to do- Thanks- Stiles said hoping the hostility he felt stayed hidden before jumping in.  
As Parrish waited for the tattered vehicle to drive away he heard crumbs of Lydia and Stiles’ conversation.  
-What happened?  
-You don’t remember?  
Jordan didn’t hear any answer from Lydia because Stiles drove away. Yet somehow he knew she shook her head mouthing a “no”.  
Jordan crossed the street, getting into the police car. As he started engine he realized Lydia Martin was much complicated than he first thought. He didn’t know if it was the good kind of complicated. Probably not. But he was still willing to find out.  
***  
-Great, we got nothing then - Lydia muttered when Stiles finished summarizing what had happened at Eichen- Absolutely nothing.  
But Stiles thought differently. His attention for details always made him notice things anyone, even Lydia Martin couldn’t spot. And it worked the same way today.  
They might have not found out the last cipher key or who the benefactor was. But they, or rather he, found out one important thing. Deputy fucking Parrish did indeed care about Lydia.  
Stiles didn’t need werewolf senses to see that. No, the lingering eyes, the face-touching and the embracing were enough. The scent only complemented the image.  
Parrish liked Lydia.  
And that made finding out his identity Stiles’s most important mission.  
The strawberry blonde wasn’t going to be used as a carrot on a stick for another psychopathic killer who was fond of her. Not again.  
And he was gonna make sure of it.


	3. Keep Her From The Darkness That Will Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Green eyes traveled from Parrish’s shoes, to his waits. From his waist to his chest. From his chest to his face, finally landing on the light green of his eyes.   
> Jordan was very aware of every single stop Lydia’s eyes had made. She’d been doing that a lot.   
> Actually a lot was an understatement. It happened every time they met.   
> The motto of the Stilinski family rang in his mind.   
> “One’s an accident, two’s coincidence and three is a pattern.   
> So this was definitely a pattern.   
> A very peculiar pattern.  
> -Unfortunately- Parrish finally spoke, rescheduling the analysis of Lydia Martin’s eyes movement for later. And he really hoped later meant never. He noticed the disappointment on the strawberry’s blonde face thinking he didn’t really suit her. Not that he thought anything suited her. This didn’t mean he thought nothing suited her. No. Back to the point. He had to go back to the goddamn point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the third chapter! It took me forever to right and be warned it is a really long one. Ofc there are hints of Stydia and it's fair to say they might be there till the very last chapter. Enjoy!

Two days.   
She hadn’t been there for two days and when she came back everything was suddenly different.   
Lydia first noticed the change when she got out of her car.   
Normally the strawberry blonde would go alone to school avoiding (rarely) sympathetic and (often) mocking looks from students surrounding the entrance.   
And today?   
Kira was waiting at Lydia’s usual parking place with a wide smile on her face, Scott standing right next to her, his grin even bigger.   
The banshee was surprised to say the least but she didn’t say anything. She simply followed the newly paired couple, not missing out on their too enthusiastic behavior.   
However Lydia did think about saying something when she reached her locker. She barely stopped her lips from opening when she noticed Stiles standing there, hands in his pockets, small smile tugging at his lips.   
She also noticed his girlfriend wasn’t there.   
-Hey- the chestnut-eyed boy said softly, a bit too softly for the word to sound casual.   
Too softly for her not to think it was caused by the vomit of words which had escaped her mouth two days ago in front of Eichen.   
-Hi- she answered, green eyes jumping from Stiles to Scott and Kira.   
She was slowly getting the picture.   
The apogee came when Lydia arm to arm with Stiles (he waited for her after each class) went to her math class. As they entered the class room the redheaded girl finally spotted the were-coyote, the only pack member she hadn’t seen yet.   
-Lydia, you…- Malia started when Lydia sat herself down on the chair. The coyote’s brows furrowing as she struggled to finish her sentence- Your hair doesn’t look bad today.   
And that made Lydia sure her theory was right.   
This was a pity party and she was the guest of honor.   
-Yours doesn’t look bad either- Lydia said through gritted teeth, turning around towards the board.   
She heard Malia’s not so quiet whispers, telling her boyfriend that she had tried but it’s not her fault Lydia’s moody.   
The banshee turned her attention back to on the teacher walking in, not wanting to hear Stiles’ answer.   
She also tried focusing on the lesson but despite the teacher’s desperate tries nobody found her lessons interesting. And that gave Lydia’s mind the perfect opportunity to escalate the anger she felt in the pits of her stomach.   
Pity disgusted her.   
Pity directed at her galled her.   
Her friends’ sinusoidal behavior got her dander up. In two days she went from being the third wheel to being the freaking battery. Or even the engine for that matter.   
Funny enough, she wanted them to take care of her. She craved support, soothing words and comforting hugs. She did. Every day of the past two months she needed Stiles and Scott by her side.   
It hurt to know she could only get it when her well-being was necessary to solve the mystery of another Beacon Hills slaughter.   
Like she was an old car which needed to be fixed because all the new ones were too expensive.   
She was Stiles’ jeep.   
Lydia snorted humorlessly not being able to stand the surrounding ridiculousness, the ringing bell luckily jamming her outburst. Maniac laughter would not normalize anything.   
The strawberry blonde grabbed her books and left the classroom before she could get attacked with another pitying compliment. She walked through the school corridors hoping she wouldn’t encounter Kira and Scott. She continued the shanks’ mare until she realized where she had gone.  
Air left her crumbled lungs. Eyes immediately watered.   
Allison.   
She went to Allison’s locker.   
A place she’d always go to, after every class she took, every time she spotted a new eye-candy, every time she needed a heart to heart with the only person who could understand her.  
Except Allison wasn’t there.   
She was dead.   
Her best friend, the only best friend she ever had, was dead.   
The banshee’s heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time.   
But no-one was there to pick up the pieces. She had to it by herself.   
Lydia took a sharp inhale, desperately trying to avoid another attack of crippling sadness.   
She needed something to force her to regain composure.   
The redhead rushed to the cafeteria, not even noticing the stares most students were sending in her direction.  
The moment she spotted the pack sitting at the table her body got the signal. Eyes no longer damp, lips no longer trembling. It was working.   
When she was not further than two meters from the table the signs of the previous five minutes disappeared. Making place for the resurrecting rage.   
They were talking about her.   
-Hey guys- Lydia a bit too loudly announced her present, making everyone look up, shame clear in their eyes. Kira even jumped slightly on her chair.   
It would be quite adorable under different circumstances. But under this? It sure as hell wasn’t.   
-Hi Lydia, how’s your day?- Malia asked, a sympathetic smile on her face. At least Lydia thought it was meant to be sympathetic. She wasn’t sure if Stiles had already taught the werecoyote the 101 of facial expressions.   
-As much as I love drama this show needs to end now. What’s going on guys?- the perfectly shaped eyebrows raised in anticipation, the green eyes eyeballing the entire table. Maybe they did linger a bit longer than it was necessary on Stiles.   
She was wondering who’d be the first to speak.  
Of course it was Stiles.   
-Can you sit down?- the brown-eyed boy asked carefully, knowing a question was a much better choice than an instruction.   
The banshee’s need to get everything straight won. She sat down on a chair next to Kira, opposite Stiles and Scott.   
-Lydia- Scott took the lead, again proving he was indeed the true alpha. Only a true one could face the angry Banshee- We were wondering if… If you needed something.   
Stiles loudly slammed a hand against his face, his eyes wide in disbelief.   
Turned out even the true alpha himself couldn’t handle Lydia.   
-Weren’t we wondering if Lydia should be the one performing the Parrish plan?-   
Stiles’ hand would fly again to his face.   
It would.   
If Malia wasn’t the one who had spoken.   
In this case, only his eye grew wider, his head mentally hitting a giant imaginary wall. He looked at Lydia searching signs of fury and rage but he didn’t find them.   
Which was even worse.   
-May I know what was it exactly that made you doubt your own plan?- Lydia’s voice steady and cold.   
Stiles knew it was a moment when the strawberry blonde’s level of evil was raising to the dangerous 60%.   
-There are no reasons?  
The question was reopened, yet nobody seemed to dare to say the words. Kira looked at Scott silently asking if it was safe to speak. Scott glanced at Stiles looking for the answer to the same question. All that happeningwWhile Style kept his eyes on Malia hoping she wouldn’t say a word.  
“Lydia we think you need help. We think you’re not okay and you haven’t been for a longer while”   
These weren’t the things you told Lydia’s sixty percent of evil and these certainly weren’t things you were supposed to direct at her one hundred percent of vulnerability and hurt.   
Vulnerability and hurt she’d shown at Eichen.   
Vulnerability and hurt, Stiles didn’t know affected her so badly.   
He should’ve known.   
But he didn’t.   
Nor did the others.  
-Okay while you’re going to stay muted I’ll take care of the plan. Hope you’ll regain your ability to talk soon- with these words Lydia stood up, surprisingly there was no eye roll involved.   
No, the only thing he could see in her big, green eyes was hurt. Hurt masked buy make-up, coldness and irony.   
-I’ll talk to her-Stiles said mostly to Scott but he was looking at Malia trying to tell her she couldn’t go with him.   
When the were-coyote nodded slightly, Stiles stormed out of the cafeteria following the strawberry blonde tumbling curls.   
They were weaning away with an incredible pace.   
-Lydia- Stiles exclaimed not really caring that the entire hallway heard him to.   
They already thought of him as a crazy loser and he knew Lydia was still wearing the nutjob patch. It was funny how the labels suited them more and more with every day.  
-Lydia Martin- he repeated himself, the strawberry blonde finally heard him or decided to hear him.   
She spun around, no hair flicking involved.   
Another bad sign.   
-Stiles, seriously?- at least her voice still sounded the same, vicious and raging.   
She approached him, her heels loudly clicking on the floor.   
-I could ask you the same Lydia- Stiles answered stepping closer, only couple inches between him and the banshee.   
He could practically feel the glares the verdant eyes were sending hitting his face. It wasn’t long until she decided it was the right time for their unborn conversation to come to an end.   
She turned around ready to walk away, Stiles’ hand caught her wrist stopping her.   
Lydia felt her skin burning under Stiles’ fingers, the fire travelling to the skin on her cheeks.   
Stiles felt the same but he didn’t let go.   
-What is your problem Stilinski?- Lydia immediately regretted using the boy’s last name. However the regret did not reach her face.   
Stiles cringed at the sound of his surname, no letting himself do more than that. She was just provoking him.   
It wasn’t even her, it was the 60% of evil.   
And 100% of vulnerability and hurt.  
-I’m just worried Lyds- he started feeling some facts needed to be stated. Out loud- I’m worried about you.   
The words rang in Lydia’s head, turning the medium heat into hellfire.   
Chestnut eyes staring deeply into her own making her stomach clench.   
Her stomach and her heart.  
She didn’t like the feeling.   
She hated it.   
-Call your dad and tell him plan b is on- Lydia said quietly finally breaking the eye contact. One more second would make her break. She couldn’t let that happen  
The redhead slowly turned around heading towards the exit.   
-Lydia?- Stiles called her name, making her stop against her own will- You can count on me, always- the statement simple but catchy.   
As she started walking away the question “can I” appeared in her mind but the thought didn’t become verbal.   
Too many of her thoughts already did.   
And it caused way too much trouble  
***  
Lydia had been sitting in her car for fifteen minutes before she saw the Sheriff leaving the station. That was her signal.   
She grabbed her bag and got out of the car.   
Ten seconds later she was back in it, searching for the gift Stiles’ dad had given her couple days ago.   
There it was.   
The black taser.   
Better safe than sorry, was it?   
More like better at least harm the beast before it slaughters you to death.   
Lydia left her car again this time reaching the door of the police station.   
Before she pulled the door she glanced at her reflection in the sheet of glass.   
Eyes ready to wander around Parrish’s body? Check.   
Pink lips twisted in a small smirk? Check.  
No visible signs of her bad state? Check.   
She was ready to go.   
As she pulled the door and crossed the doorstep the aura of (mostly fake) confidence hemmed her in.   
The strawberry blonde entered the station, spotting Parrish sitting at his desk in less than a second.   
His body clearly tensed, eyebrows were furrowed, light green eyes fixed on some sheets of paper he’d been reading.   
Probably some death reports.   
In this town nobody even cared anymore about minor things such as parking a car in a forbidden place or driving too fast. No, in Beacon Hills it was either murder reports or no reports.   
Lydia took her eyes off of the deputy, suddenly remembering that the eye-wandering wasn’t supposed be happening until he was actually looking.   
She made her way towards Stiles’ dad’s office, making sure to pass Parrish’s desk. In the corner of her eye she saw him raising his head when the characteristic clicking of Lydia’s heels approached his desk. She also noticed him looking at her. Still just with the corner of the eye because she persistently kept the other 97% of her eyes focused on the office.   
She knocked on the door, anticipation making its way to her face.   
She knocked two more times before she Parrish spoke.   
-Sheriff’s not here- she heard deputy’s voice behind her.   
Lydia spun around, eyebrows already high, head titled to the side.   
The green of her eyes locked with the green of his, making her feel slightly giddy.   
The feeling didn’t last long.   
I disappeared after 2 seconds.  
-Really? Cause I was supposed to meet him…- Lydia looked at the wall clock- Five minutes ago.   
-He was called, he left a minute ago- Parrish answered apologetically, a polite half-smile present on his features.   
-Is that so?- the banshee muttered thinking it was the right time to perform the so called “checking out”.   
Green eyes traveled from Parrish’s shoes, to his waits. From his waist to his chest. From his chest to his face, finally landing on the light green of his eyes.   
Jordan was very aware of every single stop Lydia’s eyes had made. She’d been doing that a lot.   
Actually a lot was an understatement. It happened every time they met.   
The motto of the Stilinski family rang in his mind.   
“One’s an accident, two’s coincidence and three is a pattern.   
So this was definitely a pattern.   
A very peculiar pattern.  
-Unfortunately- Parrish finally spoke, rescheduling the analysis of Lydia Martin’s eyes movement for later. And he really hoped later meant never. He noticed the disappointment on the strawberry’s blonde face thinking he didn’t really suit her. Not that he thought anything suited her. This didn’t mean he thought nothing suited her. No. Back to the point. He had to go back to the goddamn point- He probably won’t be back any time soon but if there’s anything I can help you with…- he let the offer hang in the air.   
Lydia looked away, pretending to be thinking through something that had been already settled. Three days ago to be exact. That is when Peter Hale, the mastermind invented the entire plan.  
-Well I do need to call Stiles and I’m also really close to collapsing due to the lack of caffeine- She said with a shrug deciding the wondering lasted long enough. Lydia never thought she’d regret not participating in Drama classes but she could really use some acting technics.  
-That, I can help you with. Give me a second?- Parrish looked at her waiting for confirmation.   
As she gave it to him by nodding her head he made his way back to his desk, took something out from drawer and came back to her.   
She wanted him to bring his phone, she expected him to bring a bottle of cheap water.   
What he brought was a set of keys.   
Keys to the Sheriff’s office.   
Parrish opened the door and let the girl in, ignoring his coworkers looks. He really didn’t think she should stand there any longer in that short dress when most of the deputies talked behind her back about how much they all wanted to spend some “alone” time with her. The fact that all the horny beasts had apparently seen her naked made it even more…   
Never mind.  
It just wasn’t a good idea. Plus she did want to make a call and drink some caffeine. The best coffee machine was in the office.  
As Lydia walked in, her hand drew in her bag, checking if the stun gun was still here.   
Thank God, it was.   
The strawberry blonde looked around hoping she looked more awkward than scared. She all at once didn’t know what to do with her limbs, her fingers tangled in an uncomfortable way. It was one thing dealing with Parrish in front of everyone. One on one was another thing. But she had a task.   
And she was going to fulfill it.   
-Should I use the land-based?- Lydia asked begging for a negative answer.   
She knew her prayers had been listened to when Parrish took out a cellphone from his trousers.   
-No need to, take mine.   
Of course when he handed her the bloody phone their fingertips touched, making electricity run through Lydia’s palm to her entire body.   
She cursed the universe in her mind, so engrossed in that she didn’t notice the same had happened to Parrish.  
-Thank you- her voice visibly a little bit different, more than just a bit of emotions hiding behind it. And she did blame that bits for her brain slowing down.   
-You want some coffee?- Parrish luckily asked, making up for her temporary lack of thinking.   
-Yes, please- her lips twitched in a grateful smile.   
Deputy returned the favor before heading towards the coffee machine.   
Lydia knew she only had a minute, maybe two. She needed to be fast.   
Soundlessly she took out the bug they got from Mister Argent.   
She quickly put it into Deputy’s fine, following the instruction the man had given her while simultaneously entering a random phone number.   
She was nothing, if not multi-tasked.   
90 seconds later the bug was at its place, the mobile phone pressed to her ear.   
She handled it like a professional.   
The banshee was about to say that Stiles didn’t pick up when something caught her attention.   
A noise.   
A ticking noise.  
The ticking noise, to be exact.   
It was quieter than the one she heard at Eichen two days ago. But it was present.   
And that worried her.   
Because one meant accident, two coincidence and three meant pattern. Patter of the next death.   
She was dangerously close to pattern.   
Lydia took a deep breath trying to erase the memory of death-spelling screams of the wailing woman inside of her. When one didn’t help, she took another one.   
She hoped Parrish didn’t notice.   
But he did.   
He wanted to ask her if she took sugar in her coffee. He turned around and saw the look on her face he learnt he feared seeing.   
The look he’d seen at Walcott’s house and at Eichen House.   
The terror and the concern. No, he had decided it wasn’t just concern. I had to be trauma.   
He wanted to help her, to say something but he also made out Lydia’s desperate bids of hiding whatever was happening.   
With a slight head shake and a bigger stab of sympathy, Parrish threw one sugar cube into the plastic up filled with the hot drink.   
-Here you go- he said as he handed Lydia the coffee. He saw the awaking on the strawberry blonde’s face as her eyelids fluttered a few times.   
She was blinking away tears.   
-Of course he didn’t pick up- Lydia rolled her glistening eyes, taking the cup from Parrish’s hands busily avoiding any eye-contact.   
She knew he desperately wanted to know what was happening.   
She was right and wrong at the same time.   
Because yes, he wanted to finally discover the secret of Lydia Martin but there was also another thing he wanted.   
More than he cared to admit.   
More than he probably should.  
He wanted to protect her from the darkness, the one she’d seen and the one she was going to see.   
Because if there was something he couldn’t stand it was sight of Lydia breaking each time he saw her.   
He just couldn’t.   
It made him sick to his stomach that someone so pure was so full of pitch darkness.   
She didn’t deserve this.   
-I guess I’ll be going then- Jordan saw how much strength she had to put into looking him straight in the eyes and not showing any signs of another psychic attack- Thank for the coffee.   
-You need a ride home?- Parrish survived a déjà-vu, his mind showing him the night when he first made that offer.   
The déjà-vu affect intensified when he heard the answer.   
-No, I’m fine- Lydia noticed the hints of disappointment running through Deputy’s (handsome) features. She’d seen them before.   
-I guess I’ll see you around, then?- Jordan asked not feeling surprised by the reply he’d heard. There was also another patter he had figured out: Lydia’s unwillingness to accept help.   
Help in general. Or help from him.  
-I suppose you will- Lydia answered having no idea how soon the seeing around was going to come.   
Or that it would happen under circumstance which would make their previous meetings seems like a walk in a park.


	4. I Was Made To Keep Your Body Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -John!-Deputy shouted, the emotions making him forget about work ethics- John I found her!  
> Sheriff rushed to the hutch, his feet outrunning his thoughts. So fast he ran he barely scrubbed around noticing Jordan bending over something.   
> Lydia.   
> The girl he’d known for so many years, lying on the floor in a pool of blood.   
> -She’s breathing, heart rate’s steady, more than 60 per minute, the cut isn’t deep. This isn’t her blood, least that’s what I think- words were falling out of deputy’s mouth with gale-force, giving Sheriff all the information he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4’s here! Finally there’s more blood, drama, action and the one thing I crave so much: ANGST. Hope you’ll enjoy reading this tiny emotional rollercoaster as much as I enjoyed writing it.   
> Here’s to all the ANGST!   
> (PS. This chapter is one of the assholes which you thought were going to be really short and turned out to be 14-pages long. Feel warned, this one’s a long one.)  
> (PPS. The fandom has decided that Sheriff Stilinski’s name’s John so I rolled with that version)

It was midnight when she woke up.   
Lydia violently sat up, a trickle of sweat streaming down her forehead mixing with the tears falling from her eyes. Her chest was rising in a pace too fast to be called healthy, mind still remembering what it had seen.   
It felt so real.   
More real than the cold breeze enfolding her.   
Lydia laid down, covering herself with the red quilt. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths which were slightly overrated in her opinion. Images were still flooding her brain.   
Counting.   
Counting was supposed to help.   
Except that it didn’t.   
She reached ninety-nine when she saw an arm divorced from the corpse landing in a pool of blood.   
Her body jumped at the memory, eyes wide open again, pupils fully dilated. The strawberry blonde ran her hand through her hair, fingers trembling more than slightly.   
She could practically smell the blood.   
She had to make sure it didn’t happen.  
She just had to.  
Lydia jumped out of the bed, grabbed her burgundy sweater and left the room. She tried to run down the stairs as quietly as it was possible until she remembered her mom had gone to a conference in NY. At least Lydia thought it was a conference.   
It was good thing though, Miss Martin would not approve of night trips to the local forest. The banshee herself didn’t approve them but it was either that or she wouldn’t be able to function properly, her mind would wonder every five seconds if the nightmare was really a dream or a vision.   
Lydia put on the chestnut boots, only them being able to keep her somehow warm on the cold night. She stopped next to the cupboard wandering which keys to take. Finally she opted for the set belonging to her.   
Her mom’s black SUV was harder to spot but the banshee didn’t trust herself enough to be sure it would return in one piece.   
Better safe than sorry after all.   
The strawberry blonde left her house, immediately feeling goosebumps appearing on her skin. The night cooler than usually.   
She was actually freezing but that could blamed on her gauzy nightdress. Victoria’s Secret promised skimpy and sexy not warm and windbreaker.   
The redhead jumped into the black SUV, putting the sweater on. Even with the fabric covering her arms and the heat on she was still shaking.   
Lydia turned the key, her eyelids slowly fluttering before completely closing.   
The wailing woman inside of her was wakening, her instincts taking control over her mind and body. Her eyes opened wide as she eased out.   
If someone asked her where she was going, she wouldn’t know the answer but she kept driving. Her inner GPS leading her towards the place from her dreams.   
The place which turned out to be the woods.   
Strictly speaking an old log cabin in the middle of the woods.   
It looked exactly like she remembered it, she thought to herself when the car stopped meters away from the cabin.  
Half of the building was burned to cinders, the other half barely holding.  
As the high heels of Lydia’s nutbrown shoes buried in the damp earth, her nostrils were filled with one smell.   
Blood.   
That’s when she knew.  
It was real.   
It all happened.  
She knew she should have backed away the second the scent of death reached her respiratory system.  
She knew but some invisible strength pulled her towards the destroyed house.   
Every step the strawberry blonde took was careful, full of dread. Eyes scanning the darkness looking for the inevitable. A dead body.  
She pushed the hangover from the door, her feet stepping into something.   
Lydia looked down, realizing she was standing in a puddle.   
A puddle of blood.   
Her boots weren’t the only thing swimming in it.   
No, next to her right shoe there was an arm.   
Just an arm.   
Lydia screamed drawing back from the arm just to find a leg laying loosely on the sanguineous ground.   
She felt sick, the Greek salad she’d eaten for dinner travelling up her digestive system, her stomach convulsing with disgust.   
She had to throw up.   
Lydia ran to the corner of what she thought was a living room. She stood there knees bended, shaking hands resting on them.   
The wave of vomit that was rushing to her mouth stopped short when she heard steps.   
She wasn’t alone.   
The banshee raise her head listening steadily. Whoever was in the house was on the first floor, right over her. And whoever the person was he or she probably heard her earlier scream.  
She needed to get the hell out of that cabin.   
But first she needed to see who the murderer was.  
She owed it to the poor, slaughtered soul.  
Lydia had a look around, frantically searching a place to hide. The first thing which caught her attention was an overturned hutch, standing on the other side of the room.   
Air slowly disappeared from her lungs as she tiptoed to the dark corner. The steps getting louder with every second. She kneeled down, quietly mumbling her prayers to the Gods of grating wooden floors.   
When she looked around the tiny space, trying to hide herself better she froze.   
Lydia’s hand flew to her mouth, silencing the yet unborn scream.   
There was a head next to her.   
A severed head, with hair, ears and a facial expression.   
With traces of blood under the nose, gray lips and bruised cheeks.   
And chocolate eyes, wide open. Fear still visible in them.   
They reminded her of someone   
Of Allison.  
As her eyes watered, the sound of the steps increased dramatically. Lydia’s brain reacting too slow to realize the murderer had found her.   
There was burning in her neck and sharp pain in her head.  
Darkness fell over her embracing every inch of her body.   
The last thing her eyes had seen was the face on the ground.   
Allison’s face.   
***  
-Where exactly are we going?- Deputy Parrish asked when the Sheriff’s car was drifting away fast from Beacon Hills main roads.   
-The woods, the north side of it- the older man kept his eyes on the road, not even glancing at Jordan.  
-Are we sure this isn’t just a trick?- Parrish was persistent, this entire thing smelled fishy.   
It was 4.15 when he heard his phone ringing. John telling him he’d be in front of his house in five. He was there after 3 minutes and called him 4 times when he didn’t go out.   
Now it was 4.30 and they were going for a ride to the forest.   
Fishy.  
Then again, his job didn’t exactly consist of average Deputy’s duties.   
His job was constantly fishy.   
-It was an anonymous call Deputy, it could always be a trick.   
Sheriff decided keeping Parrish in the dark was a better idea than revealing his son got a call from one of the assassins hired by the Benefactor (aka the brain behind this month’s slaughter) telling him the old cabin in the woods would no longer be useful.   
Especially if Parrish was the Benefactor or the killer or whatever the hell he was.   
When deputy didn’t answer, John let out a quiet breath.   
He was still figuring out this entire “how to act around Parrish when you have no idea what he is or how much he knows” thingy. He wasn’t even sure why he even picked him to go with him.   
He wished someone had given him some sort of training.   
A “how to survive in a tow in which werewolf and kanimas exist” sort of training.   
As the Sheriff kept thinking about all the qualities one needed to stay alive in Beacon Hills, Parrish tried to keep an open mind.   
He was trying hard not to make any assumptions, not to draw any conclusions. To stay Zen.   
Easy breezy.  
However keeping an open mind when his eyes spotted a navy car parked few meters from the destination they’d reached was beyond his limit.   
He hoped, prayed, begged it wasn’t the car. That it wasn’t her car.   
Gritting his teeth Jordan pushed the door, storming out of the auto, eyes fixed on the blue vehicle. His body’s entire focus directed on proving the fallaciousness of his theory, his brain almost missing the suffocating smell hovering in the late-night air.  
Almost.  
The door from the driver’s side wide open, navy paintwork covered with mud stains, clear signs of rush.  
Anxiety rose in him as he was slowly comparing the digits on the license plate with the ones saved in his mind.   
The same.   
These were the same numbers.   
Jordan looked over to the Sheriff looking for some signs of his mistake.   
He didn’t find them.   
All he saw on John’s face was fear covered with slowly fading restraint.   
-Stay behind me- Sheriff charged his gun, running up to the cabin.  
Parrish copied is actions as his mind kept jumping to conclusions he did not want to accept.   
It was just another psychic thing.   
It had to be.   
With the Sheriff by his side he entered the cabin. Both of the man immediately smitten by the odor of a decaying body.   
Parrish’s eyes were searching for some signs of Lydia, scanning the room inch by inch but that didn’t stop him from stepping on something. The light of his torch fell down on the floor showing the object.   
No, not an object.  
A hand.   
A tiny, pale hand drowning in blood.  
Fear spread throughout his entire body, his stomach dropped much like it had when he saw the navy car.   
-Sheriff- Jordan mumbled barely audible making John freeze.   
It took him a longer second to snap out.  
John approached Parrish, ignoring the splashing sound accompanying his each step.   
All the hope Sheriff had left in him disappeared as he saw the severed arm swimming in the liters of blood.   
Jordan looked at the man, wanting to see something else than terror of realization. He didn’t find it, something inside of him clenching, palms curling into fists.   
This could be Lydia’s hand.   
Lydia’s.   
Sheriff stood up, running a hand through his face he walked away from the deputy needing some time to think.   
Two thoughts only running through his mind.   
Lydia Martin could be dead and her murderer could be the man with him.  
This was too much for John’s mind.   
-Send support, we have a murder- Parrish heard John saying, his voice losing the last bits of peacefulness.  
Jordan picked himself up, stood up week at the knees, head dizzy, eyes fixed on the limp in front him.   
Lydia, the strawberry blonde girl he’d seen three days ago murdered.   
Dismembered.   
-God- his hand flew to his face muffling his whispers, his mind constantly rejecting the situation.   
He was dangerously close to losing it.   
That’s when he noticed the shoe sticking out of a blown down sideboard.   
Under floodlights colors faded, changed shades but not this one. It was brown.   
Jordan walked over to the hutch, hoping the boot was a part of a whole. His eyelids fell down the moment he reached the corner, inner fear taking control over his body.   
He had to force himself to open them.   
Once he did Jordan experienced a feeling, which took its toll on him while leaving a deep scar on his mind.   
She was there.   
Complete.   
Parrish kneeled down, his knees cracked against the wood as he fell down but he didn’t notice.   
All he saw was Lydia, laying on the ground in one piece. Her limps not disjointed, no visible signs of violence.  
“She could still be dead”, a voice of reason ringing in his head.   
Hands hesitating only a second before he swept away now matted hair from her face, his fingers brushing her cheeks to check the skin temperature.   
She was warm.   
Jordan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, pressing two fingers to her neck. The pulse he found was steady and firm.   
He couldn’t resist bringing his hand to her palm, his thumb stroking across the smooth skin enjoying the fact it was still a part of a whole, a part of her.   
That’s when he noticed.   
Her arm covered with stains of blood.   
They weren’t there before.   
His eyes flew up only then noticing the burgundy line on Lydia’s neck. It had gone unnoticed during his rush of relief. But he saw it now.   
There was a cut on her throat. A thin wound, little creeks of blood effusing from it sloshing around Lydia’s pale skin.   
-John!-Deputy shouted, the emotions making him forget about work ethics- John I found her!  
Sheriff rushed to the hutch, his feet outrunning his thoughts. So fast he ran he barely scrubbed around noticing Jordan bending over something.   
Lydia.   
The girl he’d known for so many years, lying on the floor in a pool of blood.   
-She’s breathing, heart rate’s steady, more than 60 per minute, the cut isn’t deep. This isn’t her blood, least that’s what I think- words were falling out of deputy’s mouth with gale-force, giving Sheriff all the information he needed.   
John Stilinski pressed his hand to Lydia’s forehead checking if what Parrish said was true.   
She was alive.   
-We need to call an ambulance- Parrish stated, his light green eyes fixed on the strawberry blonde lying on the floor.   
Only then the Sheriff noticed where the deputy’s hand was.   
Right on Lydia’s palm, his thumb caressing it slowly.   
The older man’s eyes narrowed as he tried to read Parrish.   
It wasn’t the time for this.   
No, now was the time to help Lydia.   
-She won’t be safe in a hospital- Sheriff cringed at the sound of his sentence. It was true however. If someone had attacked her here, they could easily find her in a public institution.   
-We can’t take her home without any help- Parrish so aggressively stating the obvious it made John’s eyes narrow even more.   
-Call Melissa McCall and bring her with you. Be here in seven- Sheriff spoke to the comms his mind firing on all cylinders.   
What the hell was his deal?  
-We have to get her out of here, it’s still a crime scene- Parrish’s voice disturbing John’s inner brainstorming, bringing his focus back to the actual cause.   
Sheriff nodded, his arms reaching to the redheaded girl stopped short by deputy’s words.   
“I got it”.   
Sheriff watched Jordan moving carefully as he slid a hand behind her head the other resting under her bent knees. He moved away letting Parrish stand up with Lydia in his arms.   
He watched him securing her head with his hand, pulling it closer into his chest.   
As Parrish was slowly walking out of the house with Lydia in his arms John was thinking about his face. How it wasn’t a face of someone who had performed a necropsy on a living person, how it wasn’t a face of someone who was satisfied because his vicious plan had worked out, how it wasn’t even a face of a neutral.   
Parrish’s face reflected his own.   
And John cared about Lydia Martin.   
A lot.   
***  
Lydia’s eyelids felt heavy, she couldn’t open them. Breathing was hard too, lungs seemed too small to take a proper breath. Her bones ached, throat burned.   
Something brushed her cheek, warmth spread on her skin. Her nose filled a smell she knew.   
Marc Jacob’s Daisy.   
Allison.   
The smell gave her the strength she needed. Green eyes flew open just to see chocolate ones three inches away from her.  
Allison.   
It was Allison.   
She looked just like Lydia remembered her, tussled hair surrounding her gleaming face, eyes shining with life.   
She was really there.   
Lydia wanted to say something, to move but her body stayed still.   
Allison’s pink lips curled in a smile, her hand caressing Lydia’s strawberry blond waves.   
-Shh, you’re safe- her best friend’s whisper echoed in her head- I’m here with you.  
She was safe.   
Allison was safe and she was here, with her.   
Lydia finally wasn’t alone.  
***  
-They almost completed the body- the deputy who ever since the “boy who claimed to be a Hale” case had been called asshole informed Parrish as he passed the medical point organized as far away from the crime scene as possible.   
-Good- Parrish mumbled under his nose, his eyes fixed on the strawberry blonde in his arms. She looked so fragile, wrapped in his jacket, a gauze bandage covering the cut on her neck.   
-She’s been out all the time?- Miss McCall, or Melissa as she preferred to be called, walked to him again, adhesive bandage in her hands.   
Jordan nodded his head wondering how it possible that a nurse was this calm about some dozing off. Psychic thing, he thought.   
Parrish delicately switched Lydia’s body allowing the woman to do her job.   
Melissa moved away the gauze, uncovering the line on Lydia’s skin. The bleeding stopped, the cut looked smaller but it was still too big for Parrish’s liking.   
He’d prefer if there was no cut.  
He’d prefer Lydia wasn’t even there.   
-Hold her head up- Melissa instructed, her voice purely professional even though everything inside of her was shaking.   
It wasn’t long ago she was examining Isaac and Stiles, two teenage boys after their encounters with evil spirits who attacked them inside and out. They were too young, too innocent, too gentle.   
But this was their life.   
The same thought crossed Jordan’s mind as he place his finger on Lydia’s chin, slightly turning it to the side.   
His eyes travelled through her face, lingering longer on the raging violet bruise covering the pale skin of Lydia’s cheek.   
It made his fist twist in fury.   
Someone dismembered one girl only to savage another one.   
Whoever the person was, he or she was asking for his own death.   
And Jordan could provide creature like this with one.   
Gladly.   
***  
-I can’t say more Lydia, I have to go- Allison spoke, a wave of panic washing through Lydia.  
She needed to know how it was possible, she needed to know how she could trigger it, she needed to know how she was so sure.   
Most of all, she needed her best friend to stay with her.   
-I can’t- Allison whispered, reading the banshee’s thoughts- I have to go- having said that the dark-haired girl stood up, sending Lydia a smile she knew was broken- We’ll see each other again.   
She wasn’t sure of that but she had to lie. She could feel Lydia’s inside screaming in protest even though her paralyzed body wasn’t reacting.   
As Allison turned around, one single tear fell from her eye.   
God, she missed Lydia.   
She missed her dad, Scott, Isaac.   
She missed everyone.  
So fucking much.   
But she was no longer a part of their world.   
No, this was where she belonged now.   
Her mission was helping them, as much as she could.   
She’d make sure she completed it.   
***  
-Okay- Melissa placed the bandage, the material veneering the wound- It’s all I can do, we just have to wake till she wakes up.  
Just as the words left the woman’s mouth Parrish felt Lydia budge under his arms. Both his eyes and Melissa’s immediately flying to the strawberry blonde only to see hers opening. The green of them overshadowed by glistening tears, her pupils frantically moving from side to side, not landing on anything concrete.   
Not more than a second passed before Lydia’s mouth open, only one word escaping them.   
-Allison!- first a whisper turned into a scream, as the banshee tried to tear herself loose from deputy’s hold, her fists hitting his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his uniform.   
Jordan stood still for a nanosecond, glancing at Miss McCall searching for some information. The woman froze, waves of pain running through her features.   
He had to do it alone.   
Parrish with one quick but gentle movement turned the strawberry blonde around, the girl now facing him.   
Her eyes looking at everything except for him, the name still coming out of her mouth, the screams getting louder.   
Lydia’s flying arms caught by Jordan, his fingers embracing the thin wrists not harmfully but strong enough to prevent further movements.  
-Lydia, look at me- Deputy’s calm but demanding voice not making its way to the redhead’s ears, her own words jamming everything around- Lydia- he repeated, the reaction no different.   
Her words, the thought, her words were the answer.   
Allison.   
The name she kept saying.   
He’d heard it before. His father’s sister’s name was Allison. He only knew two Allisons in Beacon Hills. One who worked at Burger King and one who he filled a report on.   
A death report.  
Parrish eyes widened as he watched Lydia’s face covering with tears.   
Allison.   
Allison Argent, the girl who had died during an assault two months ago. The girl who had been Lydia’s friend.   
-Lydia look at me- Jordan’s warms hand cupped Lydia’s cheeks, forcing the green eyes to break on his own- Allison is not here.   
The four words somehow reached to Lydia, making all her movements stop short. Jordan watched realization washing through the banshee’s features, the streams of falling tears quickly turning into a cascade.   
There was something agonizing in watching her fall apart in front of him. It hurt looking at her hurt.   
He couldn’t control the surge of affection that overtook him so he decided to just embrace it instead.  
\- I’m sorry- Parrish’s whisper muffled by Lydia’s hair as he pulled her towards his chest, his own body repressing the tossing shakes of her petite frame in his arms. His hand making its way to the strawberry waves, fingers drawing soothing circles on them.   
He feels her tense up before relaxing against his chest, her fingers squeezing the fabric of the uniform wetted by her tears.   
He didn’t know how much time they spent standing like this, his arms around her, pulling her close, her body trembling before she calmed down. The muffled cries, quieted to finally vanish, the trembles getting weaker only to disappear completely.   
Parrish felt Lydia calming, his eyelids opening even though he didn’t remember closing them. His left eye seeing Sheriff Stilinski and Miss McCall discussing something few meters away from him, the corner of the right one experiencing stares from other deputies.   
Once again he felt Lydia moving slightly away, her head raised, eyes fixed on him. They’re emerald almost dark and empty, the only feeling filling it being inanition. Both mental and physical.   
-Are you alright?- the superficial question escaped Deputy Parrish’s mouth before he could stop it.   
The strawberry blonde barely visibly shaking her head, her eyebrows furrowing at the rush of pain embracing her from the neck to the jaw.   
-You want me to take you home?  
This time it took Lydia longer to answer, her blank mind forcing itself to analyze the situation. She almost got killed (again) by strangling (again), she witnessed the sight of a dismembered body (for the first time), she had an attack of uncontrollable grief (for the millionth time).   
And Allison.   
She’d seen Allison.  
Her brain was pulsing violently, her temple aching like it was about to blow up. The thought the only thing stopping her from collapsing then and there were Parrish’s arms didn’t ease the pulsation.   
It steadied it.   
The look his light green eyes were giving her, the heat radiating from his body slowly warming her up.   
It increased it.   
Allison’s words ringing in her head making her question her sanity.   
They made it unbearable.   
But she was too exhausted to think, her knees so weak she was barely standing on her feet. She was too exhausted to follow the rational instincts. She had to go home and if Parrish was the person to take her than “be it” would her only reaction.   
For once, she’d follow the inconsistent path.   
The path Allison wanted her to follow.   
Lydia nodded her head, this time remembering to keep the movement as delicate as possible. Parrish answered with the same before speaking to the Sheriff.   
-Is Lydia free to go, Sheriff?- Jordan asked, making sure not to pose the question straight from the shoulder. He was occupied but he did notice the look the man had given him. It wasn’t a look which foreshadowed trouble.  
Lydia looked at John Stilinski, answering the silent question both his eyes and Melissa’s were sending her.   
They still were looking at her unsure, concern clear on their features. Lydia understood that. They’d been seeing kids dying on daily basis, something no parent should ever see.  
The banshee sent them a weak but approving smile, feeling the wound on her neck burning. She kept the smile plastered ignoring the ache.   
It took her exactly seven seconds to convince them, after which they shared a quick look, Sheriff finally speaking to Jordan.  
-Take her home- John spoke, a hints of reluctance he didn’t manage to hide, lingered in the air. Lydia watched Jordan nodding his head, his reaction neutral-I’ll send a police patrol, they’ll be staying with you till your mom gets back- these words directed only at the strawberry blonde.   
It wasn’t the time for arguing, so Lydia bit her tongue letting the information her mother would be gone for an entire week stay in hidden in her head. She could get rid of the patrol later.   
-Thank you, call me if you…  
-I will- Stiles’ dad cut the girl off, not wanting to force Lydia to again pronounce the sentence “Let me know when you find out who tried to killed me”.   
-You need rest, I’ll visit you tomorrow to clean the wound and check on you- Melissa squeezed Lydia’s shoulder as the young girl passed her, offering her all the support she had.   
Lydia send another weak smile towards the two adult who had done more for her than anyone before leaving with Parrish.   
Jordan’s hand found its way to Lydia’s back supporting her through the short walk. It only left its place when they reached the car but his left hand immediately found Lydia’s elbow helping her get into the auto.   
All cells in the strawberry blonde’s body with one accord agreed to ignore the surge of electricity traveling under Parrish’s touch just like they all agreed to feel it.   
The mutual agreement seemed to pass between the redhead and Jordan too. They drove in silence, the wind and falling rain were the only soundtrack accompanying the ride. Lydia’s head resting on the windowpane, green eyes watching the sun rising from the cumulous clods. Another day was beginning yet everything felt the same. She was stuck. So was the entire Beacon Hills.   
People were evolving, environments changing and life in Beacon was a vicious circle made of people trying to avoid getting murdered and murderers looking for people to kill.   
The murderers part seemed to get bigger with every day, the other one didn’t just seem to lose strength. It was decreasing, all the proof was hidden in police reports.  
Lydia could had made the circle even smaller tonight.   
At least she’d have the scar in the same place. She wouldn’t handle more pits powdering. Nor would the Martin’s dwindling budget.   
Lydia released a seemingly calming breath, her eyes coming back to watch the sun rising.   
She was really too tired to think.   
She need to stop doing that.  
***  
-Careful- Parrish caught Lydia’s arm just in time before she hit the door frame.   
-Thanks- the strawberry blonde mumbled back, feeling furious she wasn’t able to enter her bedroom on her own.   
Jordan’s fingers lingered on the girl’s skin, not letting go until they reached the king-sized bed occupying the space under the opposite wall.   
Lydia carefully sat down, the quilt embracing her frozen to the bones thighs. She looked around suddenly feeling too overwhelmed with Parrish’s presence.   
It was one thing helping her get to her house, being in her bedroom was a completely different thing.   
-You’ll be fine now?- Jordan asked as his mind drew the same conclusions as Lydia’s.   
-Yeah- Lydia said nodding and lowering her gaze to the floor, the tingling reappearing under the bandage covering her newest wound making her frown.   
The man sent the green-eyed redhead a supporting smile before turning around and heading towards the exit.   
-Parrish? Thank you- Lydia’s vocal cords vocalized what was born a nanosecond ago in her mind. Deputy turned around, his eyebrows only slightly raised. She didn’t really know if it was because of the way she called him or because of the fact she actually spoke up. Her eyes found his, green on green she stared speaking- Thank you for finding me in the pool of my own blood, taking care of me tonight and I suppose giving me a hug when my body desperately needed one.   
The finale version of the banshee’s thanks surprised her even more than the man next to the door. Both of them agape, eyes wide open, minds producing million thought per second.   
Some heart might had been racing too but neither of them cared to notice that.  
Jordan was the first who regained at least some tiny bits of previous composure. His lips twisting in a smile he’d used at work, head nodding with understanding.   
Only his voice wasn’t composed when he said the quiet “Anytime” before wishing Lydia a good night and leaving.   
When the door closed, Lydia stared at them blankly. It took her a definitely longer while to snap out of the shock she was in.   
Once she did, she let out a breath she’d been holding ever since she woke up at midnight and started taking her shoes off.   
Her mind drifted away to her conversation with Allison. She didn’t even know if it was a conversation. It felt like one, but it was one thing believing in werewolves, banshees and kitsunes. Believing in ghosts reaching out to the living wasn’t something she could wrap her mind around.   
But she wasn’t going to question it, analyze it, try to find some sense in it.   
No, she’d seen her best friend again. Lydia didn’t care how it happened and she wouldn’t as long as it wasn’t the last time she’d seen Allison smiling and looking more alive than she remembered.   
Her bright smile, her eyes not emptied by death, her voice. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.   
Allison’s words kept ringing in her head, particularly four words. Her mind had been replaying them almost as often as the “I’m here with you” her friend greeted her with.  
“You can trust him”  
She could had been talking about anyone but Lydia knew she meant Parrish.   
That meant Allison had decided he wasn’t a monster.   
And Lydia wanted to believe her best friend.   
She really did.   
***  
-She’s at home, I’ll wait till Smith and Jones get here- Parrish spoke to the comms, as he settled himself in the car.   
He opened the window, letting the fresh morning air enter the car. The wave washed over him, taking away some of the weight from his shoulders.   
The fog covering up his mind for the last couple of hours laid down, letting him get a clear view on the situation.   
He had spent the end of the night and the beginning of the morning worrying over someone, a girl he’d met few weeks ago.   
He almost lost it at the thought of the same girl being murdered even though she wasn’t supposed to mean a thing to him.   
And now he was sitting in his car, thanking Universe Lydia Martin was alive.   
Scarred and bruised but alive.   
It was terrifying to think it was all that mattered to him at this very moment.   
But it was the truth.   
And that truth was fucking terrifying.


End file.
